


The apple doesn't fall far from the tree (But maybe it should)

by damtoti



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe, Comedy, Dysfunctional Family, Dysfunctional Relationships, Gen, M/M, One-Sided Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-13
Updated: 2018-01-13
Packaged: 2019-03-04 03:11:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13355283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/damtoti/pseuds/damtoti
Summary: Alternate Universe in which Canada, Romano, and Germany have grown up to be exactly like the caretakers who raised them, the Bad Touch Trio.  Canada is a rampant flirt, Romano is cheerful and oblivious, and Germany creates havoc wherever he goes.  Whether this is for better or worse is up for debate.





	The apple doesn't fall far from the tree (But maybe it should)

**Author's Note:**

> De-anon from the Kink Meme
> 
>  
> 
> **Disclaimer: Canada, Romano, and Germany are very blatantly OOC due to the nature of the AU**

Spain lurched up in bed, gasping.  He brushed the sweat off his forehead with the back of his palm.  “Oh, God…”

Beside him, France stirred awake.  “What is it,  _ amour _ ?” he asked, voice thick with sleep.

Spain sighed deeply, and settled back into the arms of his lover.  “Ah, it’s nothing.  I just had a terrible dream.”

“Hm?  What about?”  France planted a tender kiss on his forehead.

“It was honestly very silly.” Spain let out a soft chuckle.  “I dreamt that Romano—Canada and Germany too, actually—all grew up to be very... _ different _ than we expected.  Romano was the worst.  Always misbehaving, cursing, breaking my things and saying he hated me!”

France couldn’t help but break into a laugh.  “That’s absurd!  Romano, hating you?”

“Yeah.  And Canada was so shy, timid!  I’m not even sure if he was in my dream, to be honest.  It might have just been America.”

“America?  But they’re nothing alike!”  France hummed in thought.  “However, a shy Canada still sounds very sweet.”

“He was!  I think?  I don’t really remember him much.  But anyways, you won’t believe what Germany was like.”

“Hm, let me guess?  Very different from Prussia?”

“Yeah!  He completely lacked a sense of humor!  I didn’t see his facial expression change at all, except when he was irritated.  Then he became really bossy.”

France chuckled.  “Ah, I’ll never understand how your brain conjures such imaginative scenarios.  I can’t fathom how any of them three could turn out in such a way.  We raised them, after all.”

Spain nuzzled his head into France’s shoulder and yawned.  “I know.  It’s pretty silly.  They’re just like us, after all...”

* * *

America sighed and leaned his head onto his hand.  This sucked.  This was the worst day ever.  But pretty much every day his brother visited him was the worst day ever.

Canada, or Matt- _ hieu _ , as his brother insisted on being called, was the absolute worst brother in the history of brothers.  America was 99.9% sure Canada only visited him to hit on his people, since French accents had a much stronger impact in rural Wyoming than Montreal, or whichever Frenchy part of his country Canada normally hung out in.

Hell, America was pretty sure his brother had even tried to hit on him before.  This was clearly turning into an addiction, and addiction wasn’t a joking matter!  But America couldn’t find a rehab facility intended for sleazy French-speaking man-sluts.

“So…” America said, scraping his fork against his plate to pull Canada’s attention away from the waiter’s ass.  “Can I just go...or, do you need my help doing...whatever it is you’re trying to do?”

“Seeking out love,  _ Amérique _ .  You needn’t be so afraid to speak about love.”  Canada hummed contemplatively, staring America up and down in an extremely off-putting manner.  “I don’t blame you, however.  I’m sure love is a bit of a... _ scarcity _ for you.  How is the diet going, by the way?”

America groaned.  “For the last time, I’m  _ not  _ on a diet!”

“Oh!” Canada drew back, as if America had just cursed at him.  “I apologize.  I just assumed, considering your—” He gestured to his stomach “—Well, I’m sure you know.”

“I’m a perfectly healthy weight, no thanks for your concern!”

“I’m sure you are quite thin, by your country’s standards,” Canada said.  “Still, I’d advise you not to finish the rest of your meal.”

“So can we  _ go  _ then?”

“Not quite.  I still have a brief  _ affair  _ to take care of.”  Canada winked at his choice of words, and then raised his hand to get the server’s attention.  “ _ Mon ami _ , you have been so kind to care for us this evening.”

“It’s his job!” America interjected, but to no avail.

Canada deftly slipped a folded piece of paper into the server’s pocket.   “I hope you can find the time to call a lonely young man, such as myself.  You see, I just suffered a tremendous heartbreak a few days ago—”

He was interrupted by America’s long and drawn out groan.

Canada caught the man’s hand and gave it a squeeze.  “Please excuse my brother!  He behaves like a child.  My parents always said he was...how do you say…?” Canada frowned, as if in thought “... _ mentally deficient _ ?”

The server looked between the two of them.  “Um, okay?  I’ll be back with the check in a few minutes.”

Canada appeared unperturbed by the daggers America was glaring at him.

“What?” he said, twirling a strand of hair around his finger.  “There’s no need to be jealous,  _ Amérique. _  Genetics is an unkind mistress, but in all honesty—” Canada leaned forward to whisper “—My charming good looks are more a curse than a blessing!  I can’t go anywhere without women, men, even animals becoming enraptured with my beauty!  Every time I fall in love anew, I must wonder: Does this person love me for who I am, or merely for my eternally attractive physique!”

America sighed.  “Seriously, dude, shut up.  I give zero fucks who you hit on.  I just know you’re full of shit with the whole ‘Oui, oui, oh goodness me, I speak with ze French accent and do not know how to English’!”

“Oh, my!” Canada gasped.  “I’m sorry I can’t speak  _ American  _ to your standards!  I always knew you were a bit xenophobic, but honestly,  _ Amérique _ !  To target your French-speaking brother in public!  I don’t know why I bother visiting you at all!”

“Yeah, seriously, why  _ do _ you bother visiting?  All you ever do here is strut around with your superiority complex!”

“I didn’t have a choice!” Canada threw up his hands, as if in agony.  “I heard you were hosting the next meeting, after all.  I assumed I could have a pleasant trip to your country shortly before.  But your attitude leaves me feeling  _ extremely  _ unwelcome!”

America raised an eyebrow.  “The meeting’s a month away, dude.  You can...just go back?”

“Alas, it’s too late!  I must stay, as much as it pains me!  And please, don’t bother inviting me to stay at your house!  Your standards of living are—to put it politely— _ disturbing _ .  I’ve already booked my stay in a much nicer hotel.”

“Well, great.  Why don’t you just head there, then, so that I can go home?”

“Not so fast!” Canada said, whipping an arm out to almost seductively squeeze America’s shoulder.  “I know  _ Angleterre _ didn’t impart much romantic wisdom to you, but as your brother, it’s my duty to ensure you are capable of achieving your own romantic endeavors.  I vow to spend every last day of his month teaching you my techniques.  And the best method of learning is, of course, observation.”

America felt his heart plummet down his chest.  Or maybe that was just the weird French food he ate gurgling in his gut.

* * *

_ A month later... _

* * *

 

Romano loved meeting days!  Of course, waking up early was never fun, but being able to see all his friends made it worth it!  

He hummed to himself as he got dressed.  On the other side of the bed, Veneziano rolled over.  “You’re up already?” he mumbled, sleepily.  He blinked a few times before stretching.  Romano couldn’t help but smile.  His brother was pretty damn cute.

“Yup!  I was hoping if we got there early, we’d have a chance to talk to Spain and some of the others before!  It’s been forever since I’ve seen Spain.  I can’t wait to give him a big hug!”

“Okay, I guess I’ll get up too…”  Veneziano mumbled.  He leaned over to pick up his phone and check the time.  “Wow!  It’s only six, Romano!  The meeting doesn’t start until nine.”

“I know, but I told Spain to meet me there early.  He’ll be there with France.  Those two are so cute together, aren’t they?  I’m so happy for Spain!”

“Yeah, they are.”  Veneziano smiled.  “Hopefully I’ll be just as lucky.”

“You’re going to ask him today, aren’t you?” Romano asked.  As his older brother, Veneziano confided in him about everything, including all of his crushes.

“If I don’t chicken out,” Veneziano said with a laugh.

“Don’t be nervous!  You’re the cutest, smartest, sweetest guy in the world!  I’m sure he’d be thrilled to go on a date with you!”

“You really think so?”

“Of course!” Romano said, and gave his brother a hug.  He really giving people hugs.  It left him feeling so warm and giddy inside!

“But what if he doesn’t?” Veneziano asked.  He drew a finger to his mouth.  Chewing on his fingernails was one of his nervous habits.

Romano gently brushed his hand away.  “I can’t imagine why he wouldn’t want to.  But at the end of the day, people have to follow their hearts.  And if his heart leads him somewhere else, it’s okay.  You’ll still be the smart, amazing brother I know.  And I know for a fact that there are tons of other tall, blond men who would love to get to know you!”

“You’re right,” Veneziano said.  He sat up to give Romano a hug.  “Thanks, Romano!”

Receiving hugs—that was the second thing Romano loved.  It just left him feeling so warm and giddy inside! 

* * *

The meeting had been a disaster, but that was nothing out of the ordinary.  Germany was normally guilty of diverting the topic away from serious global issues.  The problem was that this time, Germany hadn’t intended for things to break out into such chaos.  Or at least, not the way he intended.

“Don’t beat yourself up over it, West,” Prussia said, doing his best to cheer up Germany by patting—slapping?—his shoulder.  “Italy’’s too blind to see he turned down the best romantic opportunity in his life.

Germany curled his upper lip in a very unconvincing sneer, and brushed the sweat (it was definitely sweat) out of his eyes.  “Ha!  I don’t even care!  It would have been a privilege for  _ him  _ to date  _ me _ !”

Assuming his slap treatment was doing some good, Prussia grinned.  “Yeah!  That’s the right attitude!  Italy’s just hung up on some temporary crush!  Once he gets over it, he’ll definitely come racing back to you for a second chance!”

Germany nodded.  Today had been the most humiliating day of his life, and his life had very few of those types of days.  He had asked Italy out in front of everyone at the meeting, assuming—of course—that Italy would tear up and nod, overwhelmed with the possibility of dating someone as awesome as Germany.  Towards the end of his presentation, Germany had added a few extra slides with cool effects and explosion sounds, with the bolded question inscribed on the final slide.

It took a minute for Italy to be poked awake by America, but once he’d read what was written on the slide, he’d smiled sheepishly at Germany and said, “Sorry, Germany.  I consider you a great friend, and I do think you’re very attractive, but I’m more attracted to the strict and serious types, like...well…” Italy had turned to the far corner of the room.  “Um, Sweden?”

Sweden grunted in response.

“I’ve been interested in you for some time now, and I thought I’d finally try and ask today.  Um, do you think you’d be interested in going out to dinner with me tonight?”

Sweden gave another grunt.

It could have been a yes, or a no, or anything in between, but Italy had squealed and leaped up from his seat, clapping his hands.

Canada, never to be out of the spotlight, fluttered his eyelashes, and said, “Ah, young love.  I remember when I wooed my first twenty or so lovers.”

After Canada’s intrusion, all eyes returned to Germany.  Most staring at him in sympathy, though there were a few snickers.  Then Germany had to struggle to figure out how to shut off his powerpoint (as he had assumed that he and Italy would charge out of the room in a blaze of romantic and sexual passion, leaving the cleanup to someone more responsible).

Once he’d finally managed to switch the damn thing off, he’d laughed and assured the remaining nations that he was too awesome to tie himself down to one person, and Italy’s refusal was for the best.  And then he’d rushed to the bathroom to wash off all that manly eye sweat.

Prussia had eventually followed him inside.

“Hey, you could always pursue the older Italy,” Prussia said, pulling Germany’s thoughts back to the present moment.

Germany shook his head.  “I can’t.  Isn’t he the one you’ve been going after?  I’d feel like a terrible brother!”

“Oh, please!  I’m willing to give up on a silly crush for your sake.  That’s just how awesome of an older brother I am!”

“You are pretty awesome,” Germany admitted.

“Yeah,” Prussia said.  “And you’re the awesomest person I know.”

For a brief second, their gazes met, faces inches apart.  Germany exhaled slowly.

And then, abruptly, Prussia jerked away.  “Besides, I don’t know if Spain dropped him on his head as a kid, or what,” he continued, “I just can’t get it in his thick head that I’m interested in him.  Every time we go on a date, he tells me I’m such a nice  _ friend  _ for buying him dinner!  Hell, I even shouted ‘I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU, ROMANO’ at him once, and you wanna know what he said?”

“What’d he say?”

“He said, ‘Thanks!  You’re my best friend too, Prussia’!  And the whole time he was laughing and flashing me a thumbs up!  So think of it this way—You’re doing  _ me  _ a favor, because he’s  _ your  _ problem now.  I’m a pretty great catch!  Men and women call me daily for casual sex!  And I can’t bend that far backwards for just  _ one  _ guy!”

Germany didn’t remember Prussia receiving any calls on his phone, but he nodded.  “I guess Romano’s pretty cute, too.”

Prussia reached over to hold his hand, but not in a sappy way.  It was done in a way intended to represent the combined strength of the two of them, united.  “Hey, maybe with both of us hitting on him, he might actually realize we like him.  And then once he returns our interest, we can split the profits of our victory!”

“That...sounds like an amazing idea!  I can’t believe I didn’t think of it sooner!”

“Hey, sometimes you need two awesome minds instead of one!”

Germany grinned.  “Honestly, I can’t figure out how a pansy like France managed to start dating Spain without brains like ours!”

Spain, who happened to enter the bathroom just then, turned to France.  “Wait, we’re dating?”

* * *

Sweden cleared his throat as he looked around the Italian restaurant.  He didn’t quite remember how he ended up here.  The last memory he had was of the northern Italy wrapping his arms around him shortly after the meeting.  And then Italy didn’t  _ stop  _ hugging him, so Sweden glanced around for help.  But for some reason, the other nations quickly averted their gaze as soon as he looked at them.

And then Italy had began babbling about something while moving in one direction, all the while still hugging him.  So Sweden had shifted his feet to avoid falling over.  And somehow the two of them had ended up seated in this fancy restaurant.  Maybe he should give Italy more credit.  Despite his small stature, he had to be pretty strong to drag Sweden all the way here without his awareness.

Maybe Sweden should have been a bit more clear with his response.  He had said ‘I’ll think about it’, but Italy seemed to have taken it as a yes.  But since he was here, he might as well make the date a pleasant experience.

He returned his attention to his suitor, who was staring at him with an...oddly calculating expression.

Without warning, Italy jerked his elbow, knocking his silverware to the floor.  The conversation around them dimmed, as a few patrons turned in the direction of the sudden noise.

“Don’t do that,” Sweden mumbled, and quickly bent over to return the silverware to the table.

When he looked back at Italy, the man had a weird... _ flush  _ on his face.

“Am I... _ not allowed to _ ?” Italy asked.  He seemed to be breathing heavier than normal.

“No.  It’s rude.”

“What if I put these breadsticks in my briefcase, and then told the server we were finished with them and asked for more?”

Sweden raised an eyebrow.  It was a very specific and odd hypothetical.  “That’s...also rude.”

It only took Italy a moment, and then he began stuffing breadsticks in his briefcase, in full view of the servers.

Alarmed, Sweden stood up and grabbed ahold of Italy’s arm.  “Stop.”

Thankfully, Italy did as he said, but his breathing seemed to be even heavier.  His voice was low and husky as he asked, “Do you like enforcing rules?”

“I think so?”  Sweden wondered if Italy had an allergy.  It didn’t make much sense, seeing that they hadn’t eaten anything yet.  He slowly lowered himself back into his seat.  “Are you alright?”

“Oh, I sure am,” Italy said, in a strange voice.  He didn’t seem to be, as he kept squirming in his seat, nibbling the end of his fork with his lips.  “I was just thinking, Sweden.  I have a feeling we’ll be perfect together!”


End file.
